


Bad Idea Generator (Monster Edition)

by ContraryIzybel



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Kid Fic, One Shot Collection, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 14:44:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17869229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContraryIzybel/pseuds/ContraryIzybel
Summary: Randomly generated pairings. Randomly generated prompts. This can only end well.





	1. Blobert/Joy (Marriage)

**Author's Note:**

> Now I'm not saying I designed a way to randomly generate pairings and prompts, but if some hypothetical how I did that...these would be the results. The horrifying, horrifying results. 
> 
> (Tags will be updated with every chapter update, rating may change)

The day her mother died it started raining, and it continued to rain every day until the funeral. When Bliss pointed this out to her father, just before they pulled into the cemetery behind the hearse, he had chuckled a little. It was the first laugh she had heard from him since her mom died. It wasn’t a real laugh, but it was nice to hear it again even if just for a moment. 

“It really does seem that way, doesn’t it?” He had said, like it was just her imagination and not a totally provable fact. But she let it go, because it really wasn’t the time to start an argument about the weather. 

Later, after she had watched them put her mother in the ground, she brought the rain up to her aunts. She even pointed at the windows and the gray clouds so they knew she was being literal and not metaphorical. They looked at the window, then back at the various casseroles people had been leaving for them through the week. 

“It’s an omen.” They said, as one. They did that a lot. In fact most things seemed to be an omen with her aunts, so she dropped the whole subject. 

And when her father finally sent off the last well wishers and her aunts had retreated to the guest room, Bliss settled on the porch to watch the rain. Rain had been her mother’s favorite kind of weather. She had always been pale, so she wasn’t wild about sunny days, but she had also grown up in a warmer climate and never seemed to enjoy the cold. But rain was a happy medium. Her mother would sit with her on the porch and talk about how the rain made the world feel clean and a little brighter. 

So it figured that the rain would stop just as soon as she sat down. 

“Stupid nature.” Bliss huffed. But at that point she didn’t want to get up again so she’d settle for pouting at the night sky, like it had conspired against her. But before she could get a good, strong pout going she was struck that the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Like something was there in her backyard, something unnatural. Something that meant her harm. 

“Bliss.” A voice called from behind the large oak across the yard. It floated towards her on the wind as a dark shape moved into the light. 

The shirtless man with a stupid cape? That was definitely the unnatural, harmful thing. 

She was up in an instant, reaching for the door, but the man held out a hand to stop her and against her better judgement she paused. 

“Bliss, be not afraid.” The man said, holding out his pale white hand to her. “I was a friend of your mother, and if you’d allow it, I could be your friend as well.” 

She lingered by the door but couldn’t help but feel curious. “Who are you?” 

“I am...whoa, you really took after your dad, didn’t you?” 

Bliss looked down at her blobby orange body and back up at the, frankly rude, man. “So?” 

“No, sorry, I just...your mom only ever talked about you in letters. I didn’t realize...” 

“Look it’s genetics alright. Blobs have really dominate alleles.”

“Sorry, sorry, you’re totally right. And yet you still have her...” 

He paused, looking her over and she let him, if only to really drive in how rude he was being. 

“...that freckle she had under her eye?" He said after a minute, "That’s the same.” 

“I’m getting my dad.” Bliss said.

He held up his hands again, like he could stop her through dramatic posing and nothing else. “I’m sorry, really. You see...I’m distressed. Joy was, she was my everything.” 

The man let out a melodramatic sob and frankly it was a wonder her dad hadn’t heard him yet. 

Bliss, however, wasn’t moved by the tears. “You’re a grown ass man. Don’t try and get me to comfort you over my mom’s death. What kind of creep are you?” 

“My dear child, you are mistaken. I am no creep, but instead...I am a vampire.” 

“You can be both.” She said, flinging the door open. “Dad! There’s a weird vampire in the backyard!” 

Bliss expected her father to appear with a broom, just in case the vampire was flying around as a bat and needed to be lightly bopped away from the property. Her dad was decent like that. But she hadn’t expected her aunts to kick out the second floor window and drop to the ground in front of her. 

“Dmitri!” Aunt Hope yelled, holding up an old book in a threatening manner. “What are you doing here?” 

Aunt Faith flipped her hair and lowered her sunglasses, though why she was wearing them when she was already in her pajamas was beyond Bliss. “How dare you show your face here after what you did to Joy.” 

The vampire, Dmitri, laughed. “What happened between Joy and I is hardly your concern. Though I never should have left. A few years alone and you let her succumb to her mortality? You foolish little girls.” 

Bliss felt a headache start, which was wild because blobs didn’t even have brains. “Seriously the funeral was just a few hours ago. Can you guys not?” 

Aunt Faith gave her a tired smile. “Of course, dear heart. Why don’t you go inside and we’ll deal with this unholy abomination.” 

“No need,” Dmitri called, flinging his cape and revealing even more of his bare chest. Did vampires get cold? Like probably not but they still had to be subject to public decency laws, right? “I can see this isn’t the time. But know this, daughter of Joy, I will return some day and I will show you all the darkness can offer. This is my vow!” 

And like that he turned into a little white bat, fluttering around their heads in a dramatic show, until her dad showed up with the broom to knock him away. It was a very gentle knock, however, nudging the bat out of their backyard and into the night. 

“Oh, Bliss.” Aunt Faith said, reaching out to touch her orange check. “We have so much we need to tell you.” 

Aunt Hope nodded, looking enthusiastic for the first time since her mom died. “About your destiny!” 

“Yes, Hope.” Faith agreed. “Your mother had her destiny and now, my dear, it is yours.” 

Bliss looked at her dad, who was still watching to make sure the vampire turned bat flew off safely, and then back at her aunts who looked at her with glee. 

“I’m going to bed.” She announced, trudging up to her room with all the dramatics a teenage blob girl could manage. 

It wasn’t vampire levels of dramatic, but it was still impressive. 

–

The next morning at breakfast her aunts tried to explain her destiny, so she grabbed a pop tart and fled out the door without even giving her father a hug. Bliss would need to apologize for that later, but not when her aunts were trying to shove a dusty old book in her face and throwing around words like “magic” and “malediction” and “apocalypses”. 

She hadn’t even known apocalypse had a plural form. 

When she went to lunch Bliss found Dmitri impersonating one of the cafeteria workers, still sans shirt but now with a fake little mustache, though she managed to avoid him when a bunch of the werewolves from the soccer team started bombarding him with requests for second helpings. Bless teenage metabolism. 

She couldn’t even escape after school as her aunts had decided to follow her in their car, occasionally offering a ride but mostly trying to explain how there was a “Big Bad” coming and she would need to know how to defend herself. Luckily that only lasted for a few blocks before a cop pulled them over for going so slow in a residential area. 

By the time she got home Bliss was done with magical destinies, done with magical weirdos, and done with the whole mess. 

“I don't want your stupid destiny, Mom!” Bliss yelled, throwing her backpack blindly into the living room. Her righteous teen rage was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass. Her bag had managed to knock over a side table, shattering a framed picture from her parents’ wedding day. 

“No, no, no!” She yelled, picking up the frame as though if she were quick enough it wouldn’t be broken. Instead the glass fell to the floor, aside from a few large shards that absorbed into her blobby body. She could feel them floating around inside her, a sharp reminder of the emotions she hadn’t been allowed to embrace since the funeral. 

The still image of her mother grinned at her, posing gleefully with her father. Joy looked young and unafraid in her black gown. She could remember the story of their wedding day, how it had been blistering hot until just minutes before the ceremony, when the world turned dark and soft rain poured down. Even in the picture Bliss could make out where her mother’s make up had started to run, could see how the rain had soaked her dad’s suit. But they looked so happy despite the clouds behind them. 

“Bliss? You home?” 

“In here, Dad.” She called, reluctantly putting the picture back on the table. 

Blobert looked at his daughter and immediately noticed the glass floating around in her. “Wowie, that’s no fun. Want me to help with those?” 

She shrugged, urging the glass through her body so she could drop the shards onto the table. “I’m not a little girl anymore.” 

“You’re always going to be my little girl.” 

Bliss groaned, “Dad, that’s such a cliche! You’re so corny.” 

Her dad grinned at the reminder, digging through his briefcase and pulling out a white envelope. “Speaking of corny, got this for you. It took me a while to find a good one. Sorry I didn’t have it ready yesterday.” 

She opened it, already knowing it was a greeting card, probably something weirdly specific that still managed to be sincere. It was kind of her dad’s thing. It had been her parents’ thing. 

“Tell me about how you got together?” She asked, holding the card close to her.

“You sure?” Blobert sighed at her insistent nod, sitting down on the couch and beckoning her to join him. “We’d known each other for a long time. Same school, you know? But she was always so busy with saving the world with your aunts. It was our last prom before graduation and I guess she had almost died the night before? You know, she never told me what actually happened.” 

“She didn’t?” 

“No, but that wasn’t what mattered. What mattered is she had gotten hurt but still came because she didn’t want to miss her last prom. Hope mentioned it over the punch bowl and I didn't want her to have a crummy night so I torn down a poster and took some of the condiments and made her a little card.” 

“What did it say?” Bliss asked, choking a little. This was always the part of the story where her mom would chime in. 

Instead they sat in silence for a moment before Blobert sighed. “It said, ‘Come Witch me for a dance?’” 

They managed the silence for another few seconds before they both snorted over the pun. The snort evolved into laughter, true deep belly laughter, until they had to hold each other up. And from that it became a hug, the hug Bliss wished she had gotten before she went to school that morning. 

“I don’t know much about this magical destiny stuff, but I’ll talk to Faith and Hope about giving you some space. If you want to take it up you have my support. And if you don’t want to, you still have my support.” He gave her one more squeeze before getting up from the couch. “You want pizza for dinner? We still have a lot of casseroles for some reason but I think you deserve pizza.” 

“Yes, please!” 

Her dad chuckled, heading towards the kitchen and leaving her with the sealed envelope. She waited until she could hear him on the phone before ripping it open, finding a simple white card inside with a boldly printed but very simple message. 

**‘I wish I could take all the pain away...and give it to someone we hate.’**

It wasn’t the best card he’d ever found, and she knew because she had boxes full of strangely specific greeting cards her father had given her over the years but that didn’t matter. It was just what she wanted to hear. 

Maybe Bliss would eventually decide to ignore her magical heritage, leaving the job of saving the world to her aunts. Or maybe she would decide to embrace it and form a coven of her own, having wild and convoluted adventures. Or heck, maybe she'd take up with the Dmitri guy and learn about the dark side or whatever. Only if he bought a shirt, those would be her terms. But whatever path she would eventually go down, she knew her dad would support her. 

Just like he was going to support her pizza toppings. 

“You’re getting the sauerkraut and olive, right?” She yelled. 

Her horrible, horrible pizza toppings.


	2. Violet/Tate + Vicky (Clothes)

Violet picked out their, well Tate’s, outfit every day. Of course she did. She was the one with taste, no offense sweetie. She was the one who could tell what looked good on him because she was the one lucky enough to see him every day! Really, she was just doing Tate a favor, like any normal girlfriend. 

But sometimes, when she compared the pink of their, well his, sweater to her cap she couldn’t help but feel, oh just a little, ever so slightly upset. 

“It’s nothing serious.” She would rant into the mirror while Tate tied the sweater around his shoulder. It’d be too warm for him to actually wear the thing and it’d crush the growth she was cultivating on his forearm, but that didn’t mean he could go around without a pop of color. “Just, it’s kind of unfair, don’t you think, pookums?” 

Tate groaned, a pained sound that reflected her indignity perfectly. Because it wasn’t fair at all. 

A booming population of monsters in all shapes and sizes and yet no one made little sweaters in her very complicated size! She couldn’t even wear a tiny necklace without it threatening to break her stem. 

So instead she dressed him up. No, no, she suggested outfits to him. Tate totally had bodily autonomy. Duh. 

But even as she helped him coordinate his slacks and his vests she couldn’t help but watch the other girls and boys and people who didn’t fall into either category. She would admire Damien’s jewelry and wish she had neck muscles. She would sigh when Polly showed up in a new cute top, wondering how fashion even worked on someone without a corporeal form. 

And all the while she’d rant to Tate, because he was a perfectly sweet boyfriend who wanted to support her through all her problems. Obviously. 

But there was one thing in very short supply at Monster High. Well, a lot of things, actually. Like manners, proper educations and fire extinguishers. But right now they were missing out on flipping privacy. 

“Heeeeeey, Violet.” The weird Franken girl said as she slid into an empty seat at their lunch table, completely ignoring Violet's glare. “And Tate.” 

Tate lifted one of his heavy hands and offered a wave before Violet slammed it back down. No boyfriend of hers was going to support rude people who just joined her, nope, no, their conversation. It was definitely a two sided conversation. 

“Vic...toribelle?” She started.

“Vicky.” 

“Riiiiiight. Hey, Vicky. Oh my gosh! Did you come for relationship advice!” She perked up as much as she was able, considering she was just an opinionated fungus. “You must have! Ooooo, we love giving advice to poor sad single people, don’t we Tate honey?” 

Tate groaned. It was probably in agreement.

“Oh, no. I mean, thank you, but I actually think I can help you this time.” 

Violet very much doubted that. 

“I overheard you talking about how you want clothes but...you know.” Vicky waved a hand that was just slightly the wrong shade of blue from the rest of her body. It clashed horribly and Violet made a mental note to tell her as much if whatever she said was stupid. “And I’ve been taking knitting and crochet as my evening class elective.” 

“I didn’t even know that was a class.” Violet admitted. 

The mismatch monster nodded excitedly. “They had to make it last minute after Miranda had the computer labs flooded a few weeks back. Anywho, I was just making these for the collection of dolls I super don’t have but then I heard you talking...” 

And with a flourish Vicky opened her backpack to reveal a tiny horde of knitted caps, all meant for teeny tiny heads. 

The sound of delight Violet made wasn’t even slightly faked. 

“They’re so cute!” She screamed, causing Tate and Vicky to flinch. “Oh, oh, I want to try the green one! No the orange one! No, does that one have a flower on it? I love it!” 

Vicky glowed under the praise, digging out hats and modeling them on the tips of her fingers for Violet’s consideration. She had over 100 little hats, an embarrassing number for someone who had only been taking a knitting and crochet class for a few weeks, but Violet didn’t bother making fun of her. Not when she had so many adorable options to pick from. Though, going from no options to so dang many was making Violet’s head spin. 

Metaphorically, of course. Duh. 

But then, as Violet and Vicky compared two almost identical pink striped stocking caps, Tate dragged a heavy hand across the table, almost knocking the bag to the ground. With a deep groan he reached out, poking at a gray hat with a little black ribbon that reminded Violet of something a Sloane Ranger would wear back in the 80’s. 1980’s? 1780’s? She wasn’t totally sure but she knew she saw something like that in one of the fashion magazines she read during her monarch history class. 

Historical magazines totally counted as academic literature in a class like that. Totally. 

“So. Cute!” She screamed. “But that doesn’t match you at all, sugar bunches.” 

Tate groaned, lifting the hat up and ever so carefully he dropped it onto her cap. It tilted a little, and she had to trust Vicky to straighten it, but when Vicky held up a tiny hand mirror she looked, well, she looked great. 

“Tate...” Violet whispered, before clearing whatever she had for a throat. “We’ll have to get you a different sweater, so we match. Oh, we can have different clothes for different days of the week! We’ll be so cute!” 

Vicky looked down at the pile of hats on the table. “I was going to offer you like one but, whatever, it’s not like I don’t more at home.” 

“And in exchange, you poor sad single loser, we’ll grant you with our amazing relationship advice.” 

Vicky grimaced a bit at the offer. “I just felt bad for you to be honest...” 

And Tate groaned, a loud and almost sorrowful sound. It echoed through the cafeteria, pausing many a small fights. 

Violet grinned, “Exactly sugar pie. Trust us, we’re the experts on romance. So first, find yourself a handsome host.” 

“Date?” 

“Sure,” Violet rolled her eyes, “same difference.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sloane Rangers or Sloanies is the name for upper class persons with a distinctive fashion, originating in London. Princess Diane was a well known Sloanie. If you can find it the show Super Sizers Go has a feature about the lifestyle in their 80's episode. I thought it'd be a good fashion style for Violet given Tate's prep fashion.

**Author's Note:**

> The writing process on this was: A. Laugh at the idea of Joy and Blobert getting married. B. Laugh even harder at the idea of them having a little blob monster daughter. C. Realize that Joy is a walking trope so she'd def turn into a dead mom who kicks off a magical adventure trope. D. ...realize that I super want to see a tiny blob monster fight demons with magic.
> 
> Whoops?


End file.
